


Left to the Wolves

by EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, a/b/o dynamics, alpha hviterk, brothers competing for her attention, mostly... there's a bit of plot if you squint, slight dub-con through persuasion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 19:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash/pseuds/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash
Summary: What happens when a princess goes into heat while spending time with the Ragnarssons? Which of them will command her attention?





	1. Chapter 1

As relaxing as the bath felt, it did nothing to relieve the sticky layer of perspiration that coated your skin. The sweat was provoked by a heat that came from within rather than the sun, a heat you had been trying to deny you were due for. Pulling the simple linen night dress over your head, you grabbed the hem to tap at your brow, hoping to dry it some but effectively doing nothing. No matter how much you tried to cool yourself, the moment your hands were idle your mind immediately snapped back to your hosts, Ragnar’s sons and your internal body temperature would spike.

You knew they had noticed, it was blatant they had caught a whiff of your budding heat when you spent that afternoon watching them train. Earlier in the week you had merely sat at the sidelines, spectating as they practiced, but today each of the brothers insisted on vying to hold your attention personally.

Hvitserk offered to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow, something you’d never cared to learn before. He quickly took advantage of the situation, crowding in behind you to rest his hands on your hips under the guise of adjusting your stance. Rearing your elbow back, you pulled the string taut as his breath fanned the nape of your neck—sending a shiver down your spine—when a movement from across the field caught your eye.

Casually, you turned your head thinking it was just the others wrestling when you noticed Ubbe tugging to remove his tunic. He discarded the garment somewhere to the side as he strode back towards the makeshift ring where Sigurd waited. He met your gaze and flashed a wink, smirking before slapping his chest and settling into a starting pose. You watched the way he bent over, hands at the ready to deflect his brother’s attacks when your grip went completely lax, launching the arrow absently into the dirt.

Hvitserk’s laugh tickled at your ear, bringing you back to your present position, his hands still firm on your hips, holding you in place pressed against his chest. “You need to remember to keep your eyes on the prize, Princess,” he teased in a low voice only you could hear.

For the rest of the day you could think of nothing besides the warmth of Hvitserk behind you, his strong hands keeping you still. At the same time you found your mind wandering to his older brother, Ubbe, and to the way the sun radiated off his skin, highlighting the lean muscles he’d cultivated since your last visit when you were still a child.

That night you followed your mother and Queen Aslaug to dinner, finding all of the princes already seated at the table. Your approach caught their attention and both Hvitserk and Ubbe stood, abruptly sliding their chairs away to greet you as their younger brothers remained sitting. Aslaug and your mother took their respective seats at the head of the table and across from your intended destination. It had been a few days now that you’d occupied the spot situated between Ubbe and Hvitserk at every meal, but there was a light in both their eyes tonight that you couldn’t ignore as they ushered you into your chair.

The dinner was pleasant enough despite Ivar’s unsolicited and spiteful comments. In fact, you barely noticed the bitterness of the youngest and third Alpha in the family, having no idea that his sour mood was inspired by the same scent that brought his older brothers to battle for your attention.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were both eager to offer you more bread or mead, each  making sure your plate was full before you could even reply. You were utterly overwhelmed by their hospitality, unsure of how to properly respond while also fawning at the onslaught of affection. You could barely eat under the watchful gaze of the two brothers. They were much more obvious about the competition then they had been earlier that afternoon. Throughout the meal they strove to outdo the other—whether it be through tales or kind acts.

Once you had finished eating, you were quick to excuse yourself, providing the need for a bath as the reason. As you rested in the warm water, you attempted to relieve some of the tension with your own hand, a tactic you often used before. Though before you’d never been in heat around so many Alphas, and it seemed the more time you spent with them, the more painful it was to resist. You wanted to fling yourself into their willing arms without hesitation and let them do as they pleased, marking you as theirs forever.

Unable to find release alone, you let out a frustrated snarl and gave the surface of the water a slap as if it was the bath’s fault you felt worse than before. You ultimately climbed out of the water before your fingers became too wrinkled, drying yourself and dressing for bed.

With a sigh you dropped the hem of your nightshirt back over your body when something behind you creaked. You spun on your heel, finding the door ajar and Hvitserk standing on the other side, his hand holding the latch as a smirk grew on his face.

“How long have you been there?” You exclaimed, hands flying to protectively cover your chest, forgetting you were already dressed.

“Long enough,” he shrugged as he crossed the threshold to your room, making sure to shut the door tightly behind him, clicking the lock closed.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you stated in what you hoped was a strong voice, but even you couldn’t deny the waiver at the end. “If-if my mother knew, she’d—,”

Hvitserk’s smile cut you off. “You see, I’ve been thinking about that,” Hvitserk began, slowly moving closer as you tried to match his steps in reverse, backing away until your thighs butted up against the edge of the table where you ate breakfast. “If your mother cares so much, why did she bring you to Kattegat—where she knew there were young alphas—when you would be in heat? Why are you in a room by yourself, with such a large bed, if you weren’t meant to share it?” His jovial expressing and tone seemed kind enough, but you could sense the edge to it. You could see his scheme but something in you found it logical—maybe it was the part of you that wanted him so—but suddenly it seemed to make since why your mother kept dismissing you, telling you to spend time with the Ragnarssons while she and Aslaug did needle work.

His hand found your waist again, squeezing your curves harder than he had while teaching you to shoot. Leaning to the side, Hvitserk dropped his head, nuzzling into the crook of you neck, inhaling your scent with a groan. Your fingers squeezed his shoulders, making a futile effort to resist as you melted into his touch.

“I’m not supposed too—,” your voice trailed into a moan as his lips made contact with your skin.

“Stop fighting,” Hvitserk hissed, finally crashing his mouth against yours. You tongues wrestled as his left hand dropped to cup your thigh, lifting your knee to curl around his waist as he lifted you to sit on the table. You leaned back, resting on your elbows to take in the way he loomed over you, his large palm slowly traveling up your side from your leg until he came to engulf you breast.

With a tilt of his head, he studied the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the way the linen of your nightshirt clung to the sticky sweat on your skin. Reveling in the softness of your flesh under his his grasp, he unconsciously jutted his hips into yours, letting his hard length prod at your inner thigh.

Hvitserk mumbled something before lifting his head to repeat himself, “I want you.” His green eyes held yours as he stilled on top of you. “I need you. Please say you want me.”

You responded without words, snaking your fingers across the nape of his neck, pulling him forward. He easily took the hint, shifting to press against you before he suddenly went stiff. Drawing away, he looked over his shoulder just as there was a knock on the door.

“Go away Ubbe,” Hvitserk barked with a sly grin. You laid frozen beneath him, slowly processing what was happening as he chuckled, “You’re too late.”

There was a still moment of silence as the pair of you waited for an angry retort but as the minutes grew it was obvious Ubbe had left—for now. Hvitserk could barely resist himself, anxiously inching his hands under your bottom. He tensed his fingers, squeezing as he began to pull back. Stepping away, Hvitserk grabbed your hand, leading you away from your perch on the table.

He backed you to the mattress, crowding against you as his palm came to hold your cheek. “It would be a shame if this big bed went to waste,” he teased as he lead you to lay flat atop the furs. You were like putty in his hands, allowing him to maneuver you limbs to the right place as he pleased, settling so your arms were pinned above your head.

Pawing at the hem of your skirt with his free hand, he drew the fabric higher, revealing the apex of your thighs. The deep groan he released at the sight of your sopping mound resonated in your bones. Silently, you longed for contact, jutting your hips towards his, begging for some kind of stimuli.

Slowly he dipped his fingers between your lips, easily finding your bud of nerves. With a brazen swipe, he rolled the nub under his touch, eliciting a moan from you lips with each rock. Grinning to himself Hvitserk watched the way you fell apart under him, knowing that every sound that crossed your lips came without hesitation. You bucked into his grasp, urging his hand to slide lower. He swirled his digits, skimming just around where you wanted him most before he began to shift. Inching his knees back, Hvitserk dove forward, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue and lips took over where his fingers had been as he laved at your hole, giving you everything but what you needed for release.

“Stop, stop,” you panted, tugging at his braids to pull his face away, overwhelmed by the presence of his tongue. Your cunt ached for him and his mouth only increased the want til it was unbearable. “Please,” your voice came out breathy and eager as you begged. “Please, I need your cock inside me.”  

The look in his eye only stoked the fire within your gut, leading you to whine for his touch. Kneeling back he wrestled with his tunic as your fingers tugged at the lancing of his pants, too impatient to wait for him to finish. Kicking off his boots he slid his trousers down his lean legs, discarding them aimlessly before turning back to you. His prick stood proud and ready, bobbing slightly as he moved—the tip an angry purple.

You mouth watered at the sight before you, a fresh pang of desire flooding your senses. Lacing your fingers into the roots of his hair, you pulled him forward as you laid back, letting your knees fall open. Hvitserk pumped himself while lining the head with your entrance. In a single hard thrust, he sank into you easily.

Clenching around him you reveled in everything you wanted but had been denying yourself. He drew back before slamming against you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing in the air with your moans as he kept up a brutal pace. Hvitserk wrapped his arms around your ribs, holding you tight as you clutched at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving red lines as they dug in to his skin.

Maneuvering his legs, he pushed himself to roll onto his back, dragging you to straddle his waist. Sitting up you rested your hands flat on his chest, bracing yourself as you reared back, pushing your ass backwards to swallow the entirety of his prick, swollen knot included. You could feel Hvitserk’s grip tighten as your hips came to touch his, pausing for a moment to adjust to the way his knot stretched your walls so deliciously.

A stuttered moan leaked from Hvitserk’s mouth as you began to roll your hips, grinding so that your clit hit his pelvic bone with every pass. You were so distracted by the feeling of his cock inside you, you hadn’t even realized the filth that he had been cooing to you.

“You like that don’t you?” he chided as you raised your eyes to meet his. “You feel fucking perfect, I can barely hold back.”

“Then don’t—,” you whined in response, blushing at the dark grin that slid across his face.

“You want me to ruin you, huh?” He began, digging his fingers into your ass, spreading your cheeks as his lifted you. “You want me to come inside you, to fill you with pups?” Grounding his heals into the bed he began to thrust upwards at a steady but teasing pace. “Tell me. Tell me how bad you want it and I’ll give you everything.”

“Yes, I want it. I want your cum so bad, please fill me,” you begged without thought or hesitation in a high pitched, wanton voice that nearly threw him over the edge. Hvitserk grabbed at your hair, wrenching your head back to expose your neck to his teeth as he pounded into you in an unyielding rhythm. Your soft flesh bounced as he nipped along your throat. He could feel the moment your body let go, the walls of your cunt spasming around him as your limbs shook, overwhelmed by the liquid ecstasy that flowed so freely through you.

Hvitserk followed soon after, his own body tensing as he fulfilled his promise to release his seed deep within you. Finally giving up on using your arms for support, you collapse to his chest—still trying you gather you conscious thoughts.

Shifting, you move to roll off from on top Hvitserk, but he was quick to keep you in place the moment he felt the slightest tug on his over inflated knot. “Not so fast,” he chuckles, drawing his arms tighter around your ribs. “You think I’m letting you go this soon after getting you? I’m not done here tonight.” Your response was a content purr, accepting your fate for the evening as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ubbe gets a moment alone with their guest

You had a leisurely morning, taking your time to rise and eat the breakfast of fruit and oats left out for you. Your body felt rejuvenated, like your skin was glowing and all was well with the world. There was a light twinge of pain when you sat that came from Hvitserk’s rough treatment, but you paid it no mind. That morning you woke in bed alone, and though disappointed, you were not surprised he’d taken his leave in the early hours.

After knotting the leather thong that fastened your boots, you finally entered the main hall, planning for a walk along the fjord in the sun, but it appeared the Gods had other plans. Almost immediately after stepping outside you crossed paths with Ubbe.

“Good to see you this morning, or should I say afternoon?” he greeted with a sly smirk.

“Good day, Ubbe,” you replied, ignoring the chiding comment. “What are you up to?” Leaning to the left, you looked past his shoulder at the chestnut-colored horse behind him.

“I was planning on going to set traps, but I would much rather take you for a picnic instead.” He bowed his chin as he spoke. With a subtle grin, his eyes connected with yours in a hold you couldn’t shake. Though his offer seemed innocent enough, with his gaze you felt the all too familiar pang between your thighs. That ache you’d thought you had satiated the night before was back and the blatant smell flooded Ubbe’s nostrils.

You hesitated, checking over your shoulder—though you weren’t sure who it was that you expected to be watching—then with a shy nod, you agreed. Ubbe offered to let you ride on the horse, giving you a helping lift into the saddle. His fingers lingered low on your hip a little longer than needed before he reached for the reins to guide as he walked on foot.

Riding through the woods was pleasant with the large trees shading you from the afternoon sun. The pair of you took your time traveling, occasionally stopping so Ubbe could set a trap when he saw fit, until you came upon a small clearing in the wood.

“We should pause to eat here,” Ubbe offered as he tethered the horse’s reins to a branch. Holding out one hand to aid in your dismount, the other found it way to your waist as you slid off the saddle. Undoing the fastener that kept his cloak around his shoulders, Ubbe shed the garment and handed it to you suggesting, “Lay this down, we can use it as a blanket,” before turning to gather the lunch he had packed. You couldn’t help but sniff at the cloak, taking in the musky scent of Ubbe which stoked the warmth in the base of you belly.

Clouds began to move in, hiding the sun as you settled next to Ubbe. He had laid out a variety of fresh bread, cheese and fruits. You picked at the foods idly while chatting with the eldest Ragnarsson.

“My brothers and I will be leaving for a few days to hunt,” he mentioned as he handed you a waterskin filled with wine.

“Oh? All four of you?” Lifting the bladder to your lips, you tipped your head back and took a drink.

“Not Ivar. Hvitserk and I want it to be a short trip so he offered to stay home,” Ubbe explained, flubbing the details to hide the true nature of Ivar’s words as he reached for the small basket of black raspberries.

Gently brandishing an overripe berry, Ubbe brought the morsel to your mouth. You bit down, feeling the fruit explode and flood your tongue with juice. As you chewed, savoring the taste, Ubbe let the pad of his thumb dance across your stained lips, just barely brushing at your skin.

“Is it sweet?” he questioned in a low voice close to your ear. You gave an affirmative hum before he continued, “May I have a taste?”

Slightly confused, your eyes darted to the full basket—there was more than enough to share, so why had he asked?

Smiling inwardly at your perplexed expression, he cautiously nudged your chin to face him. With a bit more force, he swiped at your lip again before connecting his mouth with yours. Initially shocked by the contact, you let out a soft gasp, granting his tongue entry so that he could lave at your own, taking in the sweet juice that coated the walls of your mouth while also urging you to respond to the kiss.

With a sigh you melted into him, the rekindled heat flooding through your limbs and blinding your thoughts. His hand covered the expanse of your cheek to neck as your tongues twined together.

Breaking away, you caught your breath while Ubbe stayed close, running his nose along your cheek when he spoke in a soft voice, “I could curse Hvitserk for getting to you first.”

“What do you mean?” His statement caught you off guard—the last thing you expected him to mention at this moment was his brother. Pulling back, you searched his eyes, hoping for an answer.

“Well, I am the oldest and next in line for the throne. Imagine the respect I’d garner with an Omega as beautiful as you on my arm.” Though his words seemed so confident and matter-of-fact, you still reeled at how he spoke—like an entitled Alpha. Of all the Ragnarssons, Ubbe had struck you as the one least interested in social status.

Pivoting in you seat, you shifted out of his grasp, sliding his palm from where it rested under your hair. “An Omega is not a trophy. I am not a prize to be had and put on display,” you began, trying to keep a firm tone as you picked at invisible pieces of lint from your skirt in attempt to avoid eye contact. You could feel his intense gaze watching you and although you were not sure if it was in shock or admiration, you kept your chin held high. “I have spent my life having to follow orders from my father and other Alphas. I hope that my mate would be different, that he will treat me with respect—as an equal. I do not wish to spend my life just making babies, I want to raise fierce warriors alongside my partner—whoever that maybe.”

Ubbe said nothing as you finally rose to your feet. Though he did not strike you as the vindictive type who would punish you for such insolence—speaking out of turn the way you had—you were still well aware of the fact that you were alone in the woods with a young Alpha who you had willingly joined. If anything happened now, nobody would question his actions. Hoping to diffuse the tension of the moment, you looked skyward. “They clouds are getting quite dark, I fear it will rain soon. It is probably best for us to return to Kattegat.”

Silently moving in tandem, the pair of you worked to gather what was left of the food. Once everything was secured, Ubbe climbed onto the horse’s back and held his hand out to you. “It’ll be faster if we ride together.”

Keeping your eyes low and averted, you accepted the gesture and situated yourself in the front of the saddle. The positioning kept both of you close. He brought the edges of his cloak to wrap around your shoulders, presumably for protection from the impending weather and chill. You couldn’t ignore the way his chest pressed inline with your spine as you rode, his body swaying with the horse’s gait. His legs cradled yours as his arms circled your waist, forearms resting on his thighs as he held the reins.

The journey was silent—save for his clicks and commands to the steed along with the noises of the forest around you. You had grown comfortable with the quiet, no longer fearing Ubbe’s ire when he gave a slight cough to clear his throat.

“When I spoke before about you as my queen, I did not mean to offend, but now—reflecting on your comments—I see how I misspoke.” You chose not to respond. Keeping your head forward you suddenly found yourself fascinated with the small twitches of the horse’s ears, each moving independently to perceive its surroundings while simultaneously staying focused on the path ahead. With a tense sigh, Ubbe carried on, “The dream you describe of raising a family together is all I could ever ask for. If I was lucky enough to do so with you; I would be a happy man. I cannot promise to be perfect, but I hope that you will correct me when I make mistakes.”

It was not visible to Ubbe, but a small smile tugged at your cheeks as you listened to his apology.

Riding back to Kattegat, all was quite between you and Ubbe, each enjoying listening to the sound of nature that surrounded the pair of you—the sound of the rain hitting the sprouting leaves with a light pitter-patter.

It seemed the moment Ubbe’s horse crossed the threshold into the barn it began to pour—as if the clouds had held back, waiting for you to find shelter before releasing their deluge.

The eldest prince dismounted first before helping you to settle on your feet. Stepping away you found a nearby post to lean against as you watched Ubbe undressed his horse, brushing the sweat off her back before leading his mare to her designated stall so she could eat her dinner of oats. There was something about watching him care for another creature so intently—listening to him coo to the horse, murmuring how she was such a good girl, having done well all day and deserving to rest—that made your insides twist into knots. His words about starting a family together rang through your head while you watched the way his tunic stretched, taught across his shoulder blades as he reached to secure the pen.

Pivoting on his heel he approached where you rested. He raised his hand to scratch at the short hairs on the back of his scalp, looking anywhere but directly at you. He motioned, opening his mouth as if he was going to speak before snapping his jaw shut and turning away. He grabbed his cloak from the hook and held it open at the shoulders. “It doesn’t look like this rain will let up soon. I think it’d be best if you head back to the hall. You can take my cloak and stay dry, I’ll wait out the storm here in the barn,” Ubbe explained, swinging the wool and fur to wrap around your shoulders before you could disagree. Once the ties at the collar were fastened he dropped his hand to rest on the middle of your back, leading you to the exit of the barn.

The rain seemed to come down in sheets and you hesitated at stepping out into the storm—even with the added layer. The inclement weather wasn’t the only thing that drew you stay put. Shifting away from his touch you faced Ubbe and bit you lip.

“I don’t have to leave,” you suggested, cautiously looking up at him through your lashes as you raised your hand to meet his, lacing your fingers together. “I could stay here with you.” Hesitating for a moment, you wondered if you should finish your thought, but then choose to do it anyway. “I could stay here and help you keep warm.”

A grin grew on Ubbe’s face as he watched your eyes and took in the meaning of your words. Cautiously he raised his open hand to cup your flushed cheek but you dipped away, releasing your fingers from his just before he made contact.

Spinning out of his reach you gave a flourish to the cape, guiding the the hem to swing out. You shot him a teasing glance over your shoulder before moving aside. Ubbe’s hands tried to catch your waist but you were a step ahead, keeping close but still far enough away. You couldn’t help giggling every time his fingers barely missed the wool of the cloak. The chase kept up but it soon turned when you were too focused on your pursuer and not the path ahead. Unexpectedly, you found yourself in a corner, pressing your back against wooden boards while watching Ubbe’s hungry approach.

You could smell the desire on him. It had spiked the moment you suggested staying the night in the barn, and it was obvious what thoughts were flooding his mind. His eyes burned into yours as you nervously reached to fiddle with the fastener near your throat, worried about the beast you may have provoked with your teasing.

Once he was near his hands clamped around your middle, easily dragging you against his chest. “Did you plan on keeping me warm by making me chase you?” Ubbe questioned, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look at him.

Simpering at his accusation you tried to feign innocence but he wasn’t fooled. Jerking your face forward, he held your gaze. “Maybe I did,” you teased, watching the way his mouth twitched as he listened. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

“If you are going to behave like a brat, then I should treat you as such.” His voice was low with warning, a scratchy grow that made your stomach jump. You stood flush against the wall, pinned by his chest as he held your jaw, his thumb sliding to brush along your bottom lip. “Is that what you want? To be punished?”

Taking a shaky breath you watch the dark gleam in his eye. “How would you punish me?”

“I could keep you in my bed, forcing you to orgasm until you beg for me to stop.” His tongue danced across his lip, enjoying the wide-eyed expression you wore, hanging on his every word. “Then I’d fuck you until you can’t walk without thinking of me. I’d fill you with my seed until it takes and you bear my children.”

His words stunned you—freezing you inplace, overwhelmed but the thoughts his implication brought forth. Ubbe took advantage of your shocked reaction to wrap his arms around your waist, easily lifting you off your feet. The sudden action rocked you back to reality as you yelped and clutched the wool of his tunic. After two long strides, he pivoted to deposit you on top of the bale of hay. You let out an ‘oof’ on impact as his hands moved to brace next to your head.

He lowered himself slowly, bring his lips to capture yours. You met his kiss, eagerly pressing against him. Shifting, Ubbe rested on one elbow, freeing his other hand to blindly fiddle with the fasteners on your clothes. First he released the cloak, letting it fall flat to serve as a blanket again. He made fast work of the rest of your garments, yanking your long dress over your head without fully removing your apron and adornments. Pulling back, he took a moment to admire your figure, taking in the soft curve of your hips and belly as his calloused hand ran down your side.

His touch tickled, causing you try wriggle away from him but still his eyes burned as he watched the way you moved. His gaze made you anxious—in attempt to take the attention off of your own body, you reached for his vest fumbling with the buckles. As you raised your hands, Ubbe seemed to realize that he was still fully dressed. He aided your advances, eagerly peeling off his layers before returning to kiss you.  

There was an energy coursing through your limbs every time he touched your skin that was all too familiar. You were in heat and with every second you spent near Ubbe the urge increased exponentially. Pawing at his shoulders you attempted to draw him further against yourself. Your nails dragged across his trapezius, leaving a score of red on his skin in their wake.

This only encouraged the prince, biting at your collarbone as he drew your arm upwards, pinning your wrists next to your ears. The smell of Ubbe’s arousal flooded your senses, drowning out any logical thought. The closer he pressed the weaker you felt under him.

Easily manipulating your body, he twisted your torso to roll over. Resting on your belly you were still reeling at what was happening when Ubbe fisted the kerchief you wore to keep your hair back. He ripped the fabric from your head, letting your hair fall loose as he twirled it up. He gathered your arms behind your back before you could resist and secured it around your wrists.

Giving the tails two hard tugs, he ensured your wrists were immobile before leaning in. His chest lined with your spine as he moved to speak in your ear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about punishing you.” His breath fanned the side of your face as he pulled the knot tight with a final hard tug.

Ubbe moved away to kneel behind you, keeping one hand flat across your shoulder blades—forcing you to remain bent over, cheek resting against his cloak’s fur trim. Having your nose buried in his scent only stoked the fire in you, urging on your heat as Ubbe grabbed at your hips, lifting you to rest on your knees.

You let out a mindless, wanton moan as his palm smoothed over the expanse of your ass, edging close to your center. Just as his thumb began to brush your outer lips his hand lifted away.

Without warning Ubbe dropped his open hand to slap your ass. Skin cracked against skin as his palm made contact. You couldn’t hold back the yelp that passed your lips, nor the following one as he spanked your other cheek. By the third you had turned your head into the fur, trying to muffle your sound. The effort was proven futile when Ubbe wove his fingers into your hair, drawing your head back, craning your neck so you couldn’t hide your gasps.

“Do you want me to stop?” Ubbe teased, rubbing his nose against your temple as he kept you in such a vulnerable position. “Will you be my good girl now?”

“Please,” you gasped, trying to push your ass against his erection. Shifting your hips, you slid against his shaft until Ubbe finally released your hair. With a bruising grip, he shifted your hips into place, holding himself as he lined up with your center. Your pussy welcomed him as he pressed forward, sinking into your warmth. Biting your lip you tried to stay quiet until his hips hit yours.

Before you could fully adjust to his girth, Ubbe was pulling back and slamming back in. His hips cracked against your ass over and over in hard thrusts. With each impact you were driven further into the soft hay, a moaning mess that cared only about receiving what the prince had to give. He carried on at a hard pace, pounding into you with such force you could do nothing but take the brutal treatment.

You whimpered when he found his end—begging for him as he released, cumming inside of you. Ubbe seemed to collapse immediately, curling around your back before drawing you to lay on your side, spooning with him. His limp prick slid from your pussy as you shifted, feeling the warm trickle of his cum following it.

Wiggling slightly you cuddled back against him, almost forgetting about your arms before he undid the knot, releasing your hands. Shaking out the square of raw fabric, he flattened the kerchief against his hand before bring it to swipe between your legs. With a hard press he drew the fabric forward, gliding his covered fingers between your labia to best mop up the wet.

You laid halfway on your back, one arm looped backwards around Ubbe’s neck as he brought the square of his fabric to his nose. He gave a deep grunt as he inhaled the scent of your heat smeared across the wool.

“The perfect way to think of your while I’m hunting,” Ubbe growled after depositing the kerchief with his clothes. Returning his attention to you, he wrapped his arm tight around your shoulders, holding you firm against his chest.

Nuzzling your cheek against his chest hair you made yourself comfortable, sinking into the warmth of his body and  as you drifted off to sleep.


End file.
